


Postlude of Solace

by mechanicaljewel



Series: Mallorypenny [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, F/M, Fingerfucking, Grief/Mourning, Movie: Skyfall (2012), Office Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Slight Femdom, Vaginal Fingering, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicaljewel/pseuds/mechanicaljewel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eve and Mallory commiserate on the loss of MI6's grand lady and find comfort in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postlude of Solace

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea I started writing back in April. I just finished it because I am the world's slowest writer. 
> 
> The title sucks, I'll take suggestions for a better one.

It was just after hours at the interim MI6 headquarters, and Eve Moneypenny poured herself a bourbon and soda from the drinks cabinet in Gareth Mallory’s office. He had told her at the beginning of the transition that she was free to help herself at any time, but she had considered it only professional to decline to exercise that privilege. Things were different now.

Mallory was now M. She would never get used to calling him that, though. M would always be that tiny old woman whose mere presence commanded respect and who struck the fear of God into the most hardened of agents. Eve supposed that, really, she had the proper death for who she was. A rogue agent, who had given her all the loyalty she commanded and then some, who then felt betrayed by her-- better him than some mere enemy agent or garden variety terrorist, who would have only wanted to kill her for _what_ she was. Silva at least knew _who_ she was. For some reason, that made Eve feel better.

 _Christ, this job_ , she thought as she took a swig of her drink. It was coming about time for her to decide whether she would return to field duty. Bond’s words, _it’s not for everyone_ , came floating through her mind. Mallory, meanwhile, had offered her a permanent position as his assistant, if she so chose. At the time, they’d both irked her, though she knew they meant well. How could anyone be expected to willingly give up the excitement and glamour of field work? She had been glad of the opportunity to join Bond in Macau, a nice reminder that most missions were about meeting people and gathering information, not aiming a semiautomatic at your comrade. Not to mention the four million euros she did not put on red but instead simply put away for a rainy day. She had been eagerly awaiting the expiration of her suspension then. But now?

Could she really be so loyal to Mallory, to MI6, to Britain, that she would sacrifice her childhood home to them, as Bond had done? (Bad example, she’d grown up in a bungalow in Milton Keynes). Would she go too far and be driven mad by her loyalty, as Silva had done? And could she really bring anything to field work that dozens of other recruits could not? Did she feel she had something to prove as a woman--as a black woman? And what about what she could learn as the personal assistant of the head of MI6? To be so close to the top so early in her career? It was an opportunity most anyone would kill for.

She sat down on the couch, looked across the room at Mallory’s desk, and thought of M--the M who would always be M--again. It had never been her desk, but Eve could still see her there, barking orders at men twice her size, staring down the Prime Minister when he asked too many questions, threatening to have Bond killed for one reason or another (the closest she got to expressing affection for anyone, it seemed). Would history remember her kindly? Or had Silva achieved his goal of damaging her legacy as well? She supposed as long as people like she and Bond were around, her legacy would be defended, at least within the halls of MI6. Tears started to well in her eyes.

 _Dammit, I know better than to drink when I’m sad_ , she thought as she nevertheless took another swig, this time to keep from breaking out into full-fledged sobs. She repeated the process until her glass was empty and she stopped wanting to cry. But then she was dizzy from drinking too fast and decided to lay down.

The next thing she knew, she was being gently shaken awake by a hand on her shoulder. “Ms. Moneypenny,” Mallory’s voice cut through the fog of sleep and drink. “Are you alright?”

She sat up quickly, causing the room to spin, but she held onto her composure as best she could under the circumstances. “Yes, sorry sir, I just-- took a break. What time is it?” She prayed it wasn’t the next morning at least.

“Ten p.m.,” Mallory replied.

 _Thank God_. She looked up at Mallory, with his left arm still in its sling. “I’m sorry sir, I thought you went home for the evening. Has something happened?” She pricked up into alert mode, ready to handle another national crisis if necessary.

“No, no,” Mallory assured her. “I did go home, but when I got there, I realized I would just be alone there with nothing I felt like doing. So I came back here, just because, well, where else should I be at a time like this?” he finished helplessly.

Ah yes, she forgot he was alone. His wife had died in a car accident five years earlier, and his daughter was taking a gap year in Italy. But she admired his dedication to his new post, regardless. She admitted, “I’m not so noble as that, I’m just here drinking to her memory.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Mallory sighed. “Will you join me for another? Don’t feel obligated, I don’t know how many you had before.”

Eve chuckled in spite of herself. “Just one so far. I’m a lightweight when I’m emotional.”

“Understandable,” Mallory commented as he started fixing the drinks one-handed, pouring the bourbon shakily from the crystal decanter. When he lifted the first glass under the soda maker, he paused.

“Would you like some help?” Eve offered.

Mallory hesitated. “Yes, actually. I’ve got nothing to prove.”

Eve smiled again. It felt nice to do that after everything. She got up and walked over to the drinks cabinet. Mallory held each glass under the spout as she pressed the lever. When both drinks were prepared, they clinked their glasses together silently, the honoree’s title hanging unspoken in the air between them.

They walked back over to the couch and sat down. Mallory was the first to speak. “You must have known her longer than I did.”

Eve shrugged, “Not by much. I’ve been in MI6 for five years, but I only met her about a year ago.” She took a modest sip of her drink before continuing. “I joined because of her, though.”

Mallory looked into her eyes with genuine interest. “Oh?”

She nodded. “I remember when she was promoted in ‘98, I was reading political science at LSE at the time. The first woman chief of MI6? I knew had to go work for her. So I joined the Officers’ Training Corps and told anyone who would listen that I wanted serve my country on the real frontlines, in intelligence. After I completed my training, I received a commission to the Intelligence Corps, and a few years later I was recruited. It was the happiest day of my life.”

“You must be looking forward to getting back out into the field then,” Mallory replied, and Eve couldn’t help but think she detected a note of melancholy.

“Maybe. I still haven’t decided.”

“Oh?” Mallory replied. This time Eve was sure he sounded ever so slightly hopeful. “You know, if you need more time, you can take it. I’ll put you back in the field whenever you wish.”

Eve gave him a slight smile, “Thank you for the offer, but I think we both know the longer I stay out of the field, the harder it’s going to be for me to get back into it, physically and mentally.”

“Yes, of course, what was I thinking?” Mallory answered distractedly, and he took a sip of his drink. “You acquitted yourself admirably at the hearing, by the way. I don’t think I’ve mentioned that, and it should be said.”

Eve felt a flush of pride. “Thank you, sir. Not that I leapt over two desks and took a bullet for her or anything.”

Mallory gave her a long, serious look. “You kept your head and were prepared to act in the last situation in the world you probably ever expected to be called upon to do so. You covered all those people and helped get them to safety. Don’t discount that on my behalf. Especially since I probably cocked things up even more,” he spat bitterly.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Eve said.

“Have you read the report on Bond’s debrief yet?” Eve shook her head. Mallory sighed. “Silva didn’t actually kill M.”

Eve’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was. She was injured by one of his men and bled out. When Silva did catch up to her, he couldn’t actually bring himself to pull the trigger. Bond says when he got there, Silva was trying to convince her to kill both of them.”

“Fucking hell.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Mallory replied, winking at her slightly. “When Bond and his gamekeeper, Mr. Kincade, confirmed that’s how it ended, all I could do was think about how long he pointed his gun at her at the hearing. How he didn’t fire until I got to her. That maybe it wasn’t my intervention that prevented her from getting hit, maybe he aimed at me last second. Maybe if I had done nothing, he would have just broken down a moment later.” He looked down into his glass before taking a large gulp.

Eve lay a hand on his right shoulder. “You had no way of knowing that’s how it would end. And he could just as easily have shot her at the hearing. Maybe it was the chase that wore him down.”

Mallory scoffed. “You don’t plot revenge for 15 years and give up at the moment of truth because you’re out of breath.”

Eve couldn’t argue with that. “Maybe it was her injury, seeing her like that. Very few people ever saw her even slightly vulnerable. Maybe it was the first time he ever saw her as a fallible human being.”

She felt the tension leave his shoulders. “Maybe you’re right. It feels unthinkably selfish to say this, but I hope you’re right.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Eve noticed she had been absentmindedly rubbing the back of his shoulders. It was a comforting gesture, but now that she was aware of it, it felt far too familiar. She knew she should stop, but a large part of her didn’t want to for some reason. Except-- _oh Christ, no_ , she scolded herself. She _respected_ Mallory. She enjoyed working with him. Yes, she liked him as a person, but...

“Ms. Moneypenny,” Mallory broke through her thoughts. “Please understand, I say this with the utmost respect for you as an agent and a person. I thoroughly appreciate the gesture, but I’m beginning-- I mean, it’s beginning to feel, ah, inappropriate.”

Eve stopped rubbing but left her hand on his back. She made a split-second decision. “So it’s not just me, then?” If her voice sounded slightly huskier than usual, it was entirely unconscious on her part. “Gareth?” _Oh shit oh shit I’ve just killed my career haven’t I?_

Mallory took a shaky breath. “Eve,” he replied, and she started rubbing his back again. She put her glass on the table and plucked Mallory’s from his slackened grip, placed it next to hers, then took his now free hand in hers. They were both slightly cold and clammy from the drinks.

“I think we both need to feel a little more alive right now, and a little less alone?” She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and searched his face. He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled heavily. Then he squeezed her hand and opened his eyes. His pupils were completely dilated.

“This has nothing to do with our professional relationship. I’d never ask or expect anything from you in future--” Eve cut him off with a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“And I’m not sleeping my way to the top,” she said firmly.

“Of course not,” Mallory replied, slightly flustered. “You wouldn’t need-- oh Christ, I mean, I wouldn’t--” She kissed him full on the lips this time and ran her hand from his shoulders to the back of his neck, pressing him in slightly. She slowly felt him relax, and he began to respond to the kiss. But then he tried to move the wrong hand towards her. Breaking the kiss, he gasped in pain. “Dammit, I forgot about that.”

Eve couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I should be flattered.”

Mallory smiled back. “You should. But what are we going to do about this?” he asked with resignation in his voice. Surely he didn’t think the evening was at an end because of that?

She cupped his cheek. “It’s just an arm. It’s not vital to the process.”

Mallory actually blushed then. “I’m sorry, I’m just out of practice. I haven’t been with anyone since my wife, and I’ve always been rubbish at seduction. And you,” he lifted his good hand to stroke Eve’s throat with his fingertips. Her eyes fluttered at the sensation. “You are so beautiful, and brave, and strong, and I can’t imagine why you’d want to be with me right now, or ever.”

“Maybe because you’re strong and brave, and kind, and noble.” She kissed him again, encouraging him until he wrapped his good arm around her and began stroking her back. She shivered slightly and smiled into their kiss.

He broke it and rested his forehead on hers. He murmured, "Good?" She nodded, then began to unbutton his shirt. Once open, she ran her palms over his chest, savoring the tingle his chest hair caused. She outlined the large cotton bandage taped to his left shoulder with one finger.

"You earned the heroic-looking scar this is going to leave. Never doubt that," she said.

He nodded. "However, I can't imagine the faces I make when I take off my shirt these days are going to preserve the mood," he said deprecatingly.

Eve chuckled, "We'll leave it on then." She slid her hands under his shirt and around his torso, coming to rest at the small of his back. "It's barely in the way," she murmured into his ear. He sighed blissfully.

They resumed kissing, slowly but steadily getting more heated as they lost themselves in each other, relieving each other of the weight of recent tragedies, banishing the clouds of doubt and uncertainty that hung over them. Soon Eve climbed into Mallory’s lap, hiking up her skirt and straddling his right thigh. She began grinding down slightly, sending jolts of pleasure from her clit up her spine. Mallory grunted in approval and began to pull her blouse from out of her waistband with his good hand. She assisted by unbuttoning both her skirt and the blouse, and soon it fell to the floor. 

Mallory pulled back, murmuring, “Let me look at you.” Eve rested back slightly and watched his eyes travel up and down her torso before he gently began running the flat of his right palm over the satin cups of her bra, the occasional finger stroking the upper skin of her breasts, his expression enraptured. 

After a few moments, she gently lay a hand over his, and he looked in her eyes with total arousal but slight apprehension. Still concerned he’s wrong about this, she thought to herself, somewhat amused. She looked at him from under her eyelashes again and gave him a pouty, full-lipped smile as she guided his hand down under her skirt.

He rested his hand on her leg, rubbing softly for a few moments before decisively sliding up the inside of her thigh. Cupping her pussy, he slowly began rubbing her clit and down the groove through her panties with one finger. Eve closed her eyes and sighed contentedly as the damp spot on her panties spread and soaked through. She looped her arms around Mallory’s neck and pressed her forehead to his.

“Yes,” she breathed. “That’s good.” She began rolling her hips slightly, and Mallory pressed harder through the thin cotton of her panties. She gasped and moaned as the delicious friction set off her clit and her body flooded with a sudden heat.

“Eve,” Mallory said throatily, “Your bra--please…”

She let out a short, bright laugh before unwrapping her arm from his neck and reaching behind to unhook it. After it had been cast to the floor, she resumed her previous position, this time noting as she brought their foreheads together, that her breasts filled most of his field of vision. Having her bra still on must have been torturing him. But now they stood out proudly, her dark nipples hard.

Mallory lowered his head towards her chest. “Here, closer,” he breathed, goading her forward with a press to her clit.

“Oh, _Christ_ ,” Eve moaned as he wrapped his lips around one of her nipples and began teasing it with the tip of his tongue. She hastily reached down and pulled aside her panties before sliding down on his finger, engulfing in her slippery heat. He moaned appreciative around her nipple, the vibrations resonating through her torso, and quickly slid a second finger inside her while he put his thumb to work on her clit.

Good God, he was good at this, she thought as his fingers hooked inside of her, rubbing her G-spot in tandem with her clit. Soon, that cool fire was pooling in her belly, every muscle south of her navel tensing. But did she want to, yet? “Gareth,” she panted in his ear. “I’m going--so close…” That was all he needed to hear. He let her nipple fall from his lips as he channelled his entire focus through the fingers in her pussy, while his thumb vigourously rubbed her clit.

Heat began radiating from her skin, then she suddenly fell forward onto his shoulder with a sharp cry as her body convulsed in climax, lightning shooting through her nerves in every direction, her pussy twitching around his fingers as she coated them in hot cream. After a few moments, she regained her faculties while riding out the aftershocks on his fingers. She opened her eyes lazily and looked at Mallory through her eyelashes with a drunken smile on her lips.

“I need you inside me right now,” she sighed. He chuckled as he pumped his fingers a few times in response. “Your cock, Jesus…” she trailed off as she looked down, realizing for the first time he was still fully dressed from the waist down, belt and all. The seams looked ready to burst. “Oh my god,” she started laughing as she reached down to undo his belt. “I’m so sorry…”

“For what?” he murmured warmly while she unzipped his trousers.

“That couldn’t possibly be comfortable,” she said as she started pushing down his trousers and pants. He lifted his hips up as best he could to aid the process.

“I barely noticed,” he replied, eyes aglow looking at her.

She returned his gaze as she wrapped her hand around his cock and began stroking it gently. “But that’s better, isn’t it?”

“It’s wonderful,” he replied, and he leaned towards her. She met his lips and they made out lazily for a few moments as she stroked him to full hardness. Then abruptly, he broke the kiss. “Damn it, Eve, I’m sorry, I don’t have anything…”

It took a few clicks to register what he meant. “Oh, right. It’s fine, I have some. Hang on…” She kissed his cheek before reluctantly lifting herself off his thigh and sliding down to the other end of the couch where her purse was on the floor. She rummaged through it impatiently until she found the little box and extracted a foil packet. She turned back to Mallory, only to see him cleaning her cream from his hand with his tongue, which was at that moment sliding obscenely between his fingers. She immediately decided there would be a second time.

Locking her gaze with his, impish smirk on her face, Eve stood up in front of him and let the skirt that had been hiked up around her waist fall to the floor. Then she slowly peeled her panties off, cheekily turning her hips so he could only see her thigh and a bit of her bum. Mallory reached the hand now slick with his saliva and whatever remained of her orgasm around his long, slender cock, swollen to a dark pink, and began stroking.

“I could just watch you all night,” he murmured.

“Oh really?” she said with amusement, turning around slowly, though keeping his gaze in hers over her shoulder. “Bring yourself off just looking at me?”

“If you want me to,” he replied, his voice growing raspy.

Her pussy tightened involuntarily at the pure lust in his voice, and a single chuckle escaped her throat. “No,” she said, turning back around slowly. “I want you inside of me.”

His eyes shone at her as she stepped over to him and straddled his lap again. He moved his hand aside so she could roll on the condom and held her arm for balance as she lifted herself and positioned his cock between her pussy lips. The moan he let out as she sank herself down on him was exquisite.

Being mindful of his injured arm, she rested her arm on the good shoulder, tentatively testing the slightly off-balance leverage. “Alright?” she asked.

“It’s perfect, perfect,” he breathed. He grasped her hip with his good hand and pressed his cock deeper inside her. With a smile and a nod, she began riding him slowly. Still slick and sensitive from her orgasm, the firm pressure of his shaft on her G-spot steadily filled her with warmth. But it was the ecstasy blossoming on Mallory’s face that really turned her on. He was having difficulty keeping his eyes open with her long, slow rhythm, and as she sped up, riding him in shorter strokes, his head fell back and a long moan poured from his mouth that fluctuated with every bounce and cant of her hips.

“Eve...God, yes...so, so close,” he soon gasped. She quickened her pace and began tightening her pussy on as many upstrokes as she could manage. Mallory’s eyes snapped open and looked at her in wonder for a brief moment before his head fell back again. He lifted his hand from her hip and reached for her arm, tugging on it until she brought down from his shoulder. He grasped her hand and entwined their fingers. A few moments later, he cried out as his hips spasmed beneath her. As he rode his climax out, he squeezed her hand, then brought it to his lips and kissed their interlocked fingers.

She leaned in and rested her chin on his good shoulder, and as they came down together in intimate silence, Eve thought to herself, _This is quite an interesting complication for my decision..._


End file.
